


Battered but not Broken

by writewithurheart



Series: Everything's Better with Tommy Merlyn [8]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Tommy Merlyn is Alive, picks up after 3x21, speculation fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-03-26 10:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 13,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3847936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writewithurheart/pseuds/writewithurheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forced to confront the truth that Oliver has been brainwashed by the League, Felicity mourns, but then decides she needs to do something. So she calls her father, the only person she can think of who can help them get Oliver back. </p><p>Based on speculation about Felicity's father and episode 3x21.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

That’s what she is now:

Desperate.

God, she’s so desperate it leaves her cold and shaking.

There are no more tears left to cry. She ran out of those hours ago. Now there’s only the scratchy blanket digging into her face from where she lies, curled up on the overturned mattress in the corner of the ruined Foundry. It almost smells like him, which is little comfort with the reality she’s had to face today.

She thought he was strong enough, that he knew what he was doing, that he would eventually find his way back to her. But it was all a delusion. He’s gone. She’s not getting him back.

So why does she still cling to hope? There’s that thread still connecting him, a little voice in the back of her mind that screams at her: _He’s alive. He’ll find his way back to you_. No matter how much logic and rationality she shouts back, the hope won’t be silenced.

Shifting on the mattress she bought for him last summer, she reaches into her pocket and unearths her phone, silently flipping through picture after picture, wishing she could just cry once more, yearning for the release of her sorrow.

Her thumb stops swiping over the screen at a shot from September. It really shouldn’t be on her phone because Oliver’s there in all his Arrow glory, mask hanging around his neck and hood thrown back, smiling at her. She doesn’t know who took the picture, probably Roy. He liked to change her phone settings when she left him alone with her phone.

Felicity runs her hand over the screen, tracing Oliver’s bow in the image as if it were actually in front of her. She’s oblivious in the picture, smiling at the bow as she takes it from his hands, but what gets to her now is the expression on Oliver’s face. She would catch glimpses of it before: the open awe as he watches her with emotion overflowing his eyes. It’s the same expression he had that night in Nanda Parbat.

They could have had so much more than one night if he wasn’t such a stubborn...

She sighs, stopping the thought in its tracks. It’s not worth worrying over maybes.

No. She needs to act. That’s what needs to happen now.

Pushing herself up, Felicity stumbles to her feet, careful to avoid anything sharp as she tiptoes back to her abandoned shoes over by where her computers used to sit. The cold from the concrete seeps into her toes but it only fuels her determination. She knows what to do now.

...

Down in the Foundry, it seemed like such a good idea, but in the darkness of her apartment, it seems futile.

Then she looks around her apartment, pausing on the Robin Hood poster over her TV. The once colorful room now seems dull to her, colorless with him gone. The room is cold despite the warm spring air.

She groans at her antics.

She’s not supposed to be this girl. She’s strong and brave. She’s not going to fall apart just because some man left her.

But it’s not just _some_ man...It’s Oliver. And now part of her heart is lost forever.

It gives her the resolve to do what she couldn’t before. She reaches out to pick up the burner phone sitting reverently in the center of her coffee table where she gently placed after digging it out of the shoebox under her bed.

There’s only one number in the contact list, no name attached, and she stares at it for a moment before determination galvanizes her and she presses her thumb down.

Felicity stands as she lifts the phone to her ear, turning to stare out her living room window as it rings.

She chews on her bottom lip nervously. Is this the right thing?

Three times.

Yes. She needs to do this. Felicity straightens, setting her jaw as she reaches her decision. She needs to do this.

The fourth ring is interrupted.

It’s the moment of truth. She takes a deep breath:

“Hi, Dad...I need your help.”


	2. Part II

**Part II**

It didn’t feel right to meet him at Big Belly Burger. That was too close to home, to everyone she loved. It wouldn’t be right to meet him there. He might be her father, but he had walked out of her life. She wasn’t stupid. She knew he was trying to protect her and her mother. She made peace with that years ago when she tracked him down after Cooper committed suicide.

With a forced deep breath, Felicity stills her fingers from where they were tapping on the glass table at Table Salt. The disposable phone rests against inches from her fingers. It’s her lifeline now.

Really, she’s still in shocked that it worked. She hadn’t used it in the five years since he handed it to her. Its such a shadow lurking in the back of her mind that it’s almost an actual person. It’s the first thing to pop into her mind whenever she thinks of him.

“Felicity.”                                                    

She forces a sad smile as she slowly lifts her head to face the man in front of her. His salt-and-pepper black hair looks almost exactly the same since the last time she saw him. His blue eyes crinkle as he smiles.

“Dad.” She stands and lets him pull her into a hug, noticing the not-so-subtle bodyguards by the door.

She pulls away and they settle into their separate chairs. Her fingers play with the phone for a second before she pushes it away. And they lapse into banal conversation until the waiter takes their orders. Then he’s the first to move.

“So what did you need my help with, honey?” He takes a sip of his glass of water.

“The League of Assassins.” She watches him like a hawk, noting how his glass pauses halfway back to the table. She waited for that exact moment to bring it up. She leans forward. “They have a...friend. I need you to help get him back.”

“If the League has him, he’s dead.” Her father’s look is closed off as he leans back. “They don’t take people alive.”

“He’s alive.” Every time she closes her eyes, she sees him staring blankly back at her. “They’ve brainwashed him, but he’s alive. And if I can get him away from them, I can break whatever hold they have on him. I can’t leave him there.” She swallows thickly, forcing the tears back as she drags her eyes back to her father.

He tilts his head. “You love him.” He doesn’t expect an answer and she doesn’t give one. “Why did they take him alive?”

“There was some prophecy: he survived Ra’s sword blah blah blah. And now Ra’s wants him to be the next Ra’s Al Ghul and won’t take no for an answer.” She sighs. “He agreed to save his sister’s life.”

“He fought Ra’s Al Ghul and lived?”

Felicity nods.                   

“And Ra’s let him use the Lazarus Pit on his sister?” He leans back in his chair as he watches her.

Felicity frowns, but agrees again. 

Her father surveys her with interest and she knows the calculating look as he tries to solve the puzzle in front of him. Until he finally leans forward. “You’ve been to Nanda Parbat.”

She doesn’t ask how he knows. She’s gotten used to the fact that he knows things without giving an explanation. “Yes.” Her voice catches in her throat as she remembers that one, magical night. “I... _we_ tried to get him out without him breaking his promise, but...”

“Ra’s won’t stop once he gets what he wants.”

“How do you know that, Dad?”

He smiles that secret smile, the one that announces he knows a secret.

She tilts her head. “You walk around with armed guards, though I’m pretty sure you can handle yourself. You’re not comfortable with your back to the door. You keep glancing around. You make cryptic statements. You know things you probably shouldn’t know. What’s your history with the league?”

“How did you even notice that, Gadget?” He frowns at her, leaning forward.

She shrugs. She’s gotten used to it with her boys. Their heads are always on swivel. And the bodyguards... “You’ve got four guards: two by the entrance and obviously there and two more who came in earlier and are seated by that window.”

He smirks. “You’re right. How can you tell?”

“They sit too straight, they’re not relaxed, and they’re carrying.”

“To think: I left so you wouldn’t be trained to notice those things. What have you gotten yourself into?”

She leans forward. “Can you help or not?”

He grins. “Oh, I’ll help. Anything to take down Ra’s. So who’s the new heir?”

Felicity falls back against her chair. “Oliver Queen. They call him Al Saheem.”

“Queen?” She’s used to the searching looks now, knows what he’s looking for, but she leaves herself open as much as possible. “Does he love you?”

“Yes.” She swallows around the emotion and then shakes her head to clear it. “How do you know Ra’s?”

“That, Lissy, is a long story.” He sits back in his chair as their food comes. Like a proper gentleman, he drops his napkin in his lap and picks up his utensils.

“I’ve got time.” She twirls pasta around her fork as she watches him carefully.

Her father smiles, a glint in his eyes. Suddenly, she remembers why people fear Damien Darhk. He looks predatory...almost like when she came face to face with Ra’s al Ghul. He twirls his knife in his hand before cutting into his chicken and beginning his story:

“A long time ago there were two boys who were more like brothers...”


	3. Part III: The Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damien Darhk's story

**Part III: The Story**

_A long time ago there were two boys who were more like brothers. They grew up as neighbors, running around their town playing together until their feet were caked with dirt and mud and their mothers called them home as the sun set._

_They were inseparable, from the time they were born. It didn’t take long until the whole village knew nothing could split one from the other and that they could never stay out of trouble long. They would wake with the sun and get into trouble before the first rooster crowed._

_Everything was harmless until a neighboring village grew envious of their prosperity and attacked. Although the warriors fought bravely, they were no match for their enemies. One of the boys’ mother married the opposing war chief to bring peace, but the boys were now near manhood and they grew to despise the tyrants now governing their village._

_So, in the dead of night, the boys left in search of someone to teach them. They travelled the known world, searching out teachers from all walks of life. They learned the battle-tactics of the Europeans, the yoga of the Hindu, the karate from the Japanese, the tai chi from the Chinese and so much more. They drank in knowledge and martial arts like they were water until the only equals they could find were assassins who blended with shadows and lived in the dead of night._

_They earned their keep for years as guards and fought for the downtrodden, for justice. Until they found themselves facing the same assassins they envied. They defended a small village leader against a horde of assassins for six long months before their leader arrived to face the boys himself._

_He stood before them in his glory and challenged them to mortal combat with him and his heir. If one of them won, they would abandon their assault on the village. But first, they announced twelve hours of rest as was their tradition. The boys agreed, tired of fighting the same endless battle._

_When the appointed hour arrived, the four met on a field of battle, already littered with broken weapons from previous opponents. The battle lasted for many hours, neither able to overpower the other. The tide of battle can shift in a matter of moments and the slide of one blade against another leads to the downfall of the Head of the Demon’s Heir._

_As the life drained from his body, his master called an end to the fight, proclaiming the end of the battle. He called them worthy warriors and praised their prowess. And he extended to them an offer of the highest caliber: to join the ranks of his assassins, to become heirs to his legacy._

_They accepted, and under his tutelage they grew in prowess until none could be their equal. And they learned of a prophecy: That the Head of the Demon and his son would face two men in battle, and one of those men would prove himself to be the Heir to the Demon._

_So the boys knew that one of them would claim the title. But they were still the best of friends. They trained together, lived together, killed the unjust together. They were the model disciples of the Head of the Demon._

_Five years after their arrival, he called them to his audience hall and directed them to land sacred to the League of Assassins and told them to climb to the top of the cliff they found there. When they reached the top he commanded them to face each other._

_They did as he asked, and fought until one boy had won, until his sword rested on his friend’s throat. The Head applauded the victor as heir, and his friend rejoiced with him because a victory for one was a victory for both._

_For a time, they continued to live in Harmony. Then one night, the Head declared that one boy was turning assassins against the Heir. He told the heir that the only option was to kill his friend, his adversary to the title of Heir. The boy was devastated, but the Heir spared his life, banishing him instead to the far reaches of the globe._

_The boy wandered the Earth in despair, until his weary feet finally directed him home. He searched out his village, smiling as his eyes landed on the familiar arch leading him home where he could finally see his mother again, but as he rounded the final bend, he found himself stalled in his steps._

_His entire village had been leveled, razed to the ground._

_He fell to his knees, sobbing in the center of the still-smoking rubble and vowed revenge on the man who caused this pain._

_It wasn’t long before he learned that the Heir was responsible. To get his vengeance, he stole the magic healing waters so that he could flout the Heir in all his endeavors for as long as he would reign._

_And that, my daughter, is what I do. I stop Ra’s Al Ghul from destroying the world like he destroyed our town. And that is why I will help you save Oliver Queen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have gotten a stunning (and completely unexpected) response to this story. I just want to say thank you to everyone for your support thus far. I will be continuing this story when I find the time. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm just writing this as I go and not editing overly much (mainly just using this as a break from another fic). All mistakes are mine. And I obviously don't own Arrow. 
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading!!!


	4. Part IV

**Part IV**

_“And that is why I will help you save Oliver Queen.”_

The words echo in her head long after their dinner ends. They bounce around the inside of her head, demanding to be let out. Her bag is packed, sitting next to her office computers, newly renovated for vigilante-work. She paces the room, playing with the arrow-shaped industrial bar in her ear as she waits for the rest of her team to arrive.

Her computers whir in the background, all running the daily analysis of crime, listening into the police radio, and running facial recognition. She’s surrounded by the memories of their nightly activities but unable to do anything because nothing here is as big as getting Oliver back. Getting Oliver back is the best thing they could do for the city. 

For all of them.

“Felicity! What are we doing here?”

She jerks away from the window where she found herself staring out at the city to face Laurel striding into the room with Digg on her heels.

One foot in front of the other, she walks back to the computer. “We need to talk.”

“What are you wearing?” Laurel asks with a frown. “Are those sneakers?”

Felicity glances down at her red converse, confused. “Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?” She shakes her head. “Nevermind. That’s not important. What _is_ important is that I found a way to save Oliver.”

They both pause and she knows she has their attention.

“Our ride leaves in ninety minutes.”

“Our ride?” Laurel gapes at her.

“Felicity, what did you do?” Diggle asks. “You saw him. That is _not_ Oliver. Oliver is gone. All that’s left is Al-Sahim. There’s no one _to_ rescue.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“Felicity, I know you love him, but Oliver is dead.” Laurel’s trying to be gentle, trying to talk her off the ledge.

“He’s not dead. We can bring him back-“

“He _kidnapped_ my _wife_ , Felicity. Whoever that man is, he isn’t Oliver. Oliver would never do that.”

“You’re right. But I’m going to bring him back, whether you help me or not.” She grabs her suitcase and starts walking towards the door.

“It’s a suicide mission, Felicity.”

“And I’ve got a team at my back.” She turns back to her friends, determination steeling her reserve. She’s not backing down this time. “I’d rather have my team there with me, but if that’s not possible, fine.”

“What team? Please tell me you did not make a deal with ARGUS.”

“No,” but the deal she made might be just as bad. Not that she’s about to tell Digg that. Besides, she knows that this way, she’ll actually get Oliver back, even if her father does have an ulterior motive. He’s not going to betray her.

“Then who, Felicity? Who told you they could save Oliver? Because I’m willing to bet they can’t. They won’t be able to fulfill that promise. You’re letting your heart blind you.”

“No, John. I made a deal with the one person who’s known Ra’s since childhood. If anyone can beat Ra’s, it’s him.”

Laurel and Digg frown, exchanging a glance.

“Felicity,” Digg starts, stepping forward in tandem with Laurel, both obviously completely bewildered.

She sighs, dropping her bag right back into place and stepping forward. It hits her just how tall Digg and Laurel are as she stares up at them. Her heels really do give her a lot of height.

“My dad. I called my dad.” Felicity sighs, because that was something she _really_ hadn’t wanted to admit.

“ _Your dad?_ ” Well, they definitely hadn’t expected that answer if their synchronized exclamation was any indication.

“My father’s a wanted criminal. He’s got the resources and abilities to go toe to toe with Ra’s Al Ghul, and he’s willing to help us.”

“Wait. Your father is a criminal? You contacted him...Have you lost your mind, Felicity?”

She sighs. She should have known this was going to happen, that they wouldn’t just go along with her. “He’s my dad. He left my mom and I because dangerous people were after us...which now that I think about it, he might have meant the League of Assassins...huh.”

Felicity frowns, trying to remember back when she was little and any possible signs of assassins coming after her and her mother. Of course, she can’t actually remember any incidents. She was too young to notice anything out of the ordinary back then. But it’s still a weird thought. 

She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m leaving and I’ll bring Oliver back with me.”

“Not without us,” Diggle announces, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t care if he is your father.”

“What if there’s no Oliver to bring back?” Laurel asks, still not budging.

“He’s still in there. Take it from someone who knows.”

Felicity winces at her father’s voice behind her. “I thought you were waiting in the car.”

“I got tired of waiting, Gadget.” He grins as he surveys the room. “I like your set-up.” He turns to a shocked and disapproving Laurel and Digg. “Hi, I’m Felicity’s father. Damien Darhk.”

Neither Diggle nor Laurel reaches out to shake his proffered hand, both watching him with understandable suspicion. He grins, unoffended, and drops his hand.

“Thank you for looking out for my baby girl. Gadget’s smart, but she’s not the best with the physical aspect of self-defense.” He notices that while they seem to agree with him, they don’t budge. “It’s time to go.”

He turns around, grabbing Felicity’s bag, and walking out of the room without looking back. Digg and Laurel exchange a look and Digg sighs.

“You’re going one way or another. At least now, if I go, someone will have your back.”

She grins, lifting up onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, John.”

He rolls his eyes and reluctantly follows her and her father into the elevator. He glances at Laurel and prays they’re not making a mistake.

 


	5. Part V

**Part V**

 “So what’s your plan?”

Diggle’s waited until the plane’s in the air to ask the question that’s been bothering him for the past hour. Now, he finds himself on a plane with Laurel, Felicity, Felicity’s mysterious father, and three unknown men who obviously look like the fighting type. The men have stayed silent so far, which isn’t sitting well with the ex-army man. He’s not on solid ground, and not just because they’re thousands of feet on the air.

Felicity glances over from where she sits across from her father and then back at him. He nods and she taps a couple buttons on her tablet and the screens around the plane flash to life. Felicity grins.

“I could get used to this,” she mutters with a brilliant smile.

Her father grins back. “I’m pretty sure you can build it yourself, Gadget.”

Felicity hums happily with a nod and turns back to her tablet, pulling up images on the screen situated around the plane’s cabin so each seat has a good view of a screen.

“Right now, we’re on our way to a safe house twenty miles from Nanda Parbat owned by my father. The plan is to meet up there with the rest of his team. We’ll make contact with his man on the inside and plan the exact attack there.”

She moves a couple images around the screen and a map pops up. “This is Nanda Parbat, courtesy of his informant. Right here, we have the main hall with the Lazarus Pit. Here is where we stayed when we were last there.” She glances at her father. “Oliver’s probably not there anymore. And of course, these are the catacombs. While we tried to escape that way last time, they’re probably not our best way in. We’re looking at coming in through this tunnel, here.” Another pink circle appears on the screens as she circles it on her tablet.

“Based on these maps,” more images appear on the screen, overlapping each other dramatically, “we think there’s another tunnel that runs parallel to this. The tunnel is abandoned by the League and we could slip through it unnoticed, while another group draws the League’s attention from the other end of the compound.”

“Looks risky,” Diggle comments, noticing all the _ifs_ and _maybes_. “Would your men give their lives for this?”

Darhk leans back in his chair with a cool smile. “We’ve engaged in much riskier ventures, Mr. Diggle. My men know what they’re doing and are compensated accordingly. Much like what your wife does for ARGUS. I just pay better.”

John scowls, crossing his arms. “And how would you know that?”

“I have connections. They’ve intercepted a couple of my jobs. It’s unfortunate. They’ve also taken some on my better employees.” He shrugs. “It’s a pity. But it also means I know that you and your wife are good at your jobs. The Suicide Squad is hard to wrangle.”

Diggle’s hand immediately lowers to his holstered gun as he recognizes the threat. No one should know that, but this man does. He would feel far more comfortable with his weapon pointed firmly in the man’s direction, but the three men in the car mirror his action and he knows he wouldn’t get a shot off before he had at least three bullets to the head.

“A man who knows ARGUS secrets and the inner workings of Nanda Parbat. Who did you say you were again?”

He smiles. “Felicity’s father. You won’t find out much about me beyond that. The only person who’s successfully tracked me down is Gadget.” Darhk’s eyes fall on his daughter with a proud smile. “She’s far more resourceful than most people think. But you already knew that.”

“Dad,” Felicity warns. She knows Diggle is here to protect her. She’s not afraid of her father though. He loves her. His men on the other hand...they make her uncomfortable, to put it nicely. She’s happy her friends are here to support her. She’s also worried because Laurel hasn’t spoken yet and she’s usually the first to question something.

He holds his hands up. “Sorry, honey. I’ve just heard a lot about the Diggles. Don’t worry. Your family’s safe from me.”

John scowls. “Really? Somehow I don’t believe that coming from the leader of what appears to be a black ops group.” He’s not really in the trusting mood right now, not since Lyla was kidnapped by his best friend.

“Fair enough.” Darhk sighs. “But I respect you and your wife. You look out for my daughter. I only go after those who threaten my organization.”

“And what organization is that?” Laurel asks, finally speaking, her face still looking carved from stone. Her whole demeanor radiates impatience and irritation, as if everything that’s happened has been a waste of her time.

Damien smirks. “H.I.V.E. Perhaps you’ve heard of it.”  

Felicity’s never seen Diggle draw his gun so fast.


	6. Part VI

**Part VI**

“John!” Felicity jumps to her feet, but doesn’t move, eyes darting from Diggle to the three other men with their weapons drawn and pointed at him. Her father hasn’t move.

“You son of a bitch!! You killed my brother!”

Felicity freezes. She knows this story: Andrew Diggle. He was shot on duty by Deadshot. Her father couldn’t have organized that. Could he?

But Damien Darhk doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t back down. Instead he gestures to his men around the room and they lower their weapons. “I won’t deny that your brother caused me trouble at one time.”

“So you hired Deadshot to take him out. I can’t believe I got on a fucking plane with you.” He’s not releasing his grasp on the gun in his hand, a finger flexing on the trigger.

“I wondered if Floyd would say anything.” Damien continues to cool observe John Diggle.

“He did. You had my brother killed, you bastard!” Diggle takes another step forward and Darhk finally rises from his seat.

Felicity’s mouth fall open in shock as she looks between the two men in shock. “H.I.V.E. killed your brother?”

Digg’s wide eyes land on Felicity. “You _knew_?”

Her mouth flutters spastically. “Vaguely? Are you sure? Dad, did you have Andrew Diggle killed?”

Crap. She shouldn’t have brought her father into this. Definitely not. Heaven knows Andy Diggle is a sore spot for his brother. She nearly groans.

“Andrew Diggle was one of my hires when he got out of the armed forces. He worked part time for me. He started feeding information about my organization to some of my enemies. It threatened the lives of people working under me. He had to be taken out.”

“He was a _bodyguard_. He wasn’t feeding information to anyone.”

“I don’t kill unnecessarily, Mr. Diggle.”

“Now why wouldn’t I believe you?”

Felicity steps forward. “John, Dad. Is this something you really want to get into right now?”

“I’m not going anywhere with the man who had my brother killed!”

“And I’m with John on this one.” Laurel stands, backing him up. “Who says he won’t kill us because we know too much?”

Felicity scowls, torn between the two sides. It’s not like she supports murder, but sometimes killing is justified. And she knows her father is nothing if not logical. She doesn’t know what to do now. She can’t just turn her back on John either because he’s just as much her family as her father.

“I swear on my daughter’s life, you will come to no harm by my hand.”

“Like I’m going to believe that. Your men could just shoot us in the back.” Laurel pulls a baton from her bag and turns to face the other men, a threat in her voice.

“My men listen to me, Miss Lance. You’ll come to no harm, as evidenced by the fact that they’ve already put down their weapons.” Darhk holds up his hands in surrender. “We’re both on the same side here. You want Oliver back, and I want to take down Ra’s Al Ghul. There’s no reason we can’t work together.”

“I can think of a couple,” Diggle counters.

“As soon as this plane lands, we’re leaving,” Laurel announces.

“No!” Felicity yells moving forward. “No! You both know we don’t have a chance of getting anywhere near Nanda Parbat without their help. We need them.”

“He’s a murderer, Felicity!”

“He’s my _father_.”

“We can’t trust him.”

“Then trust _me_ ,” she pleads, beseeching Diggle and Laurel. She hesitantly holds her hand out towards Diggle’s outstretched gun. “ _Please_.”

“I don’t think you’re thinking clearly, Felicity,” Laurel counters. “You lost the man that you loved. You’re still grieving.”

“No! I am thinking clearly. We need to _try_ to get Oliver back. At the very least, we need to stop him from taking any more lives. He would do the same for us.”

“He wouldn’t want us teaming up with another murderer.”

“He teamed up with _Merlyn_ , Digg. Merlyn. I don’t think he can hold this against us.”

“Well, I’m not teaming up with my brother’s killer.”

“Didn’t you say the same thing about Deadshot?” Felicity counters. Sure, she’s hitting a little below the belt, but she can’t believe how stubborn he’s being about this.

“I’m not about to help the man who killed my brother storm the League of Assassins to save the man who kidnapped my wife while my baby girl was in the other room! As soon as we touch down, we’re gone. And the only reason I won’t shoot him, is because he’s your father.”

“John...”

“No! Felicity, you can’t convince me that this is right. I’m not buying it this time. We’re doing just fine protecting Starling ourselves.”

“I’m not saying we’re not, but Oliver is our _friend_. We owe him, Digg.”  

“We don’t owe him anything. Not after what he’s done.” Digg shoves the gun back in his holster. “All I _need_ to do is protect you, Felicity. Even if it means protecting your from yourself.”

“And how can you do that if you walk away?” She demands, stepping closer.

“Simple: you’re not going in either.”

“I _am_ going to get Oliver, John, even if you won’t help. I’m not going to let you stop me.”

Diggle turns his attention back to Damien Darhk. “If you want to protect your daughter, she’s not going anywhere near the action.”

Darhk nods as Felicity sputters. “I would agree with you, except she’s the best shot we have of getting through to Oliver. We can’t afford to leave her behind.”

Digg grits his teeth and clenches his hands into fists. “Damn it, Felicity!” His foot collides with the chair. He turns back to Darhk. “I’m with her. The whole time.”

He grins and nods. “Deal.”

“If you do anything suspicious, I will shoot you.”

“I would expect nothing less.”


	7. Part VII

**Part VII**

John Diggle glances around the room at the mercenaries and resists the urge to shift closer to Felicity. Laurel stands on the blonde’s other side and he knows she’s been training with Nyssa, but he still doesn’t really consider her safe. They’re all in danger as long as they’re in the room with this many trained killers. It’s just as bad as staying the night in Nanda Parbat.

He can feel the other officers sizing him up, eyes wandering over him as they assess his skillset. They’re curious and he can’t blame them, but he hates this situation. Their team has no rapport here, no respect. No one will be listening to them.

He doesn’t like this. There’s no control. They’re not managing the situation. They want to rescue Oliver. Everyone else is answering to Damien, and while he might play the doting father around Felicity, he’s serving his own interests in infiltrating Nanda Parbat. 

“Why are we working with them?”

Digg’s eyes latch onto the speaker: a well-muscled man with no less than three guns, two knives, and a sword visible on his person. The man glares back intensely, scowling as he takes in the three of them.

“Two girls that look like they can barely fight and one ex-Army Ranger? What help are they?”

Laurel pushes off the wall, looking ready to face-off against the guy, but Felicity holds a hand in front of her and spins in her computer chair to face the man who spoke. Digg grimaces. He knows that look in her eyes. It usually goes hand in hand with her “loud voice,” as Roy calls it.

“Marc-“ Damien starts, but Felicity cuts him off.

“Marc, is it?” She tilts her head, voice deceptively calm.

The man snorts. “Yeah. You seem like one of those girls who thinks she’s in charge but you can’t do anything. You’re a liability.”

Felicity smirks. “ Maybe I am. Maybe not. I’m certainly not as trained as you are. I can barely hold my own against a strong opponent, _but_ I’m good at what I can do. For instance, you are Marc Nolan. Ex-Navy Seal. You served three tours and left with a dishonorable discharge after suspicion of intentionally shooting unarmed civilians. You barely escaped a court marshall, but I suspect Mr. Darhk pulled some strings. Did I get all of that right?”

Digg schools his face at Felicity’s display. It wouldn’t do for Marc to see his amusement at his irritation. What bothers him, is that he now knows for sure what kind of men they’re dealing with and it does nothing to alleviate the anxiety he has over this whole operation. If Oliver was here, and not...crazy, he would feel a lot easier about this whole scenario.

If Oliver was here, they wouldn’t even be here.

“I’m also here for a reason,” Felicity continues. “You guys want to take the compound. My team wants to...retrieve an asset.”

“Who the hell are you people? An asset? That’s a load of crap! There’s only one way to leave the League. That’s in a body bag, sweetheart.”

Felicity finally stands and steps forward. “I know two ex-assassins who would disagree with you.”

Marc snorts again and looks around at his buddies who chuckle along with him. “Oh, really? Who? Where are they now? Because it’s neither of your _buddies_ here.”

“No. If she had told me, I would have discouraged her from doing this.”

Every operator in the room has their weapon drawn and pointed in the hallway as soon as the first words left his mouth. Digg barely resists the urge himself, but he knows another gun isn’t going to make a difference. Merlyn walked right into a H.I.V.E. base. If the other twenty men in the room can’t kill him, Diggle’s not going to bother trying.

The Devil you know is better than the one you don’t, right?

...

“Malcolm,” Felicity intones, not surprised in the slightest that he managed to weasel his way into the safe house.

“Miss Smoak, I would have thought you were smarter than to throw your chances in with this lot.” He saunters forward as if there weren’t guns levelled at his head.

“Stay where you are!” One of the men demands, holding his gun steady on Malcolm’s head.

“You know this man, Gadget?” Her father asks.

Felicity doesn’t drag her eyes from Malcolm’s face. He actually looks uneasy, she’s happy to say. “Malcolm Merlyn, otherwise known as the Magician. He used to be Ra’s right hand man...or something like that. He also killed 503 people, including his son when he attempted to level the Glades. We’re not friends, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Malcolm’s eyes dart between her and her father, weighing their connection. “And who might you be?”

“Damien Darhk. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

For the first time since he revealed his presence, Malcolm stops moving. His eyes are wide with surprise as he glances back to Felicity. “Darhk? As in the man sworn to take down the League of Assassins?”

Her father chuckles darkly, stepping forward. “So you have heard of me.”

“So why are you helping them?”

The calculating look in Malcolm’s eye unnerves Felicity. Suddenly this doesn’t feel right. Malcolm wouldn’t follow them here unless there was something in it for him, and he obviously didn’t know about her father. So why was he here? What was he doing?

She meet’s Laurel’s eyes and sees the same anxiety mirrored there.

“My daughter asked for a favor.”

“Daughter?” The word is whispered around the room by more than just Malcolm, but they all seem to come to the same conclusion rather quickly, their eyes landing succinctly on Felicity.

She crosses her arms over her chest, keeping her eyes fixed on Malcolm. She didn’t trust the snake, even when her eyes were on him the whole time. “What are you doing here, Malcolm?”

“Damien Darhk is your father?” She definitely doesn’t like that thoughtful look. That can only spell trouble.

She takes a step forward, mindful of Diggle copying her movements. “And he didn’t train me and then brainwash me into killing an old friend. Let me ask you again, what are you doing here?”

His eyes dart around the room now, taking in all the weapons with a new light before sighing and fixing his attention back on the team from Starling at the back of the room. Then he says the words she least expected to hear: “Oliver sent me. He needs your help.”


	8. Part VIII

**Part VIII**

Laurel impassively follows Digg, Felicity, Damien, and Malcolm out of the room of armed mercenaries. She’s throwing up her best stoic impersonation as she saunters through the field of guns. This is really testing her limits. She has no idea what they’re doing here anymore. This is getting too far out of hand.

She’s the last on in the room and Damien crisply closes the door behind her, turning to face the room at large.

“So what are you talking about, Malcolm? Get it out quick,” Felicity demands, icy eyes drilling into Malcolm.

Laurel shifts. She doesn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. He’s the man who killed his own son, the love of her life. Then he had her sister killed. There’s no force on Earth that could get her to forgive this man, let alone trust him. Every word out of his mouth is a lie.

“Oliver is in deep with the League of Assassins. He is _playing them_. And he needs your help.”

“Playing them? He _kidnapped my wife_ ,” Diggle growls, anger radiating his body as he advances on Malcolm. “And left my _daughter_ alone in her crib. _Oliver_ would never do that.”

“He had to gain Ra’s trust. It was the only way.”

“Bull Shit!”

Laurel nods along with Diggle, but lets him keep talking. 

“Look! I get you don’t believe me, but Oliver sent me to get your help. Ra’s is planning to raze Starling City.”

That gets the attention of the room. Laurel pushes off the wall she took control of and faces Malcolm head on. “What do you mean: ‘raze Starling City’?”

He turns to her. “There’s a virus. It’s called Omega. It was released in Hong Kong five years ago. It would decimate the population. We need to stop it.”

“And we’re just supposed to believe you?” Laurel scoffs. He’s finally gone completely looney tunes.

“No. I brought proof.”

“You brought someone else into my base of operations?” Damien manages to sound both interested and menacing in one sentence.

Man, she wishes Felicity hadn’t lead them into this situation where they’re stuck between two assassins. Either of these men could kill them all without blinking. Felicity’s safe because one of them is her father, but Laurel and Digg...they could get caught in the cross fire. Laurel really isn’t sure if this is worth it to get Oliver out of this. It smells too much like a trap. This whole thing reeks. She should have just stayed in Starling.

“She’s an old friend of Oliver’s.” He nods backwards to the closed door. “She’s waiting outside.”

“Might as well let her in,” Damien announces.

“What?” Felicity sputters, staring at him in shock.

He shrugs. “She knows where we are. It can’t hurt to hear her out. Plus, I’m intrigued.”

Laurel meets Digg’s eyes. They’re on the same page here. They don’t like being outnumbered and outclassed. As much as it pains them to admit it, they couldn’t win a fight here, even if there were decreased numbers. Sure, Nyssa’s been working with her, but there’s only so much training they can do around a regular work schedule.

At least she still has her weapons on her.

Once again, Laurel follows the group out of the safehouse until they’re in the cool night air. She can see the pale face of the Japanese woman reflecting the moonlight as she waits in shadow, facing them expectantly.

“Hello. My name is Tatsu Yamashiro.”

Damien nods and to everyone’s amazement smiles at the woman. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Katana.”

...

She’s walked into an episode of the Twilight Zone. That’s the only conclusion Laurel can come up with, because how else could they keep running into powerful players in the middle of nowhere? It’s like a party of bad asses and their team is unknown. They’re way out of their league.

Laurel’s just along for the ride at this point. Diggle too. Felicity’s the one calling the shots. She’s only here because they’re her friends. This is a suicide mission. She at least knows it.

“It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

It’s almost funny how Malcolm talking to her is enough to make her skin crawl. She glares at him and turns to face forward, happy to ignore him.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Miss Lance...about Tommy.”

“How _dare you_ speak his name!” Laurel round on him, a hidden dagger already extracted. She doesn’t start the fight though. Because that’s not going to make anything better. “He _died_ because of you!”

“No! He died because of _you_!” He takes a step forward that Laurel counters. “If you had _listened_ to all the warnings and left CNRI, he would have gone after you and _my son_ would still be alive.”

There are more eyes on them now, but Laurel isn’t about to back down. “Your son came after me because he _loved_ me. And I loved him. He _knew_ he was putting his life in danger, but he still came anyway.”

“Because you made him weak!”

“And killing my sister? Was that some twisted form of revenge?”

“Laurel!” Felicity shouts, but her voice seems far away. The clearest thing in the world is Malcolm’s acerbic sneer.

“Your sister’s death was a regrettable necessity.”

“Necessity?” She really wishes her blade could find a home in Malcolm’s chest, or slipped through the ribs.

“If I didn’t kill her, she would have killed me.”

“Then good riddance!” In a flawless strike, ingrained in her from a month of training, her knife comes slashing down. 

Only to come to a sudden halt, with a soft grasp on her wrist and a whisper of her name from a voice she never thought she’d hear again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I tried something new. I hope you liked Laurel's POV. Let me know what you think!!


	9. Part IX

**Part IX**

Wind rushes through her ears, drowning out everything as she focuses on intense grey eyes and her heart stops beating. It’s not possible. It’s not.

“Laurel.”

It can’t be.

It’s not possible.

“LAUREL!”

“Tommy...” It slips out in a whisper, barely there so that the wind brushes it away. Her heart starts beating again and she can finally think. Her eyes search his face, his body, something she didn’t think she’d ever get to lay eyes on again.

He nods slowly, confirming that he’s real.

Embarrassingly, a whimper escapes her as she drops the knife and throws herself into his arms, closing her eyes as his arms wrap around her. They feel so warm, so familiar, like home.

Tears leak down her cheeks against her will as she just holds him as tightly as possible. She’s not going to let him go now.

“It’s me. It’s me, Laurel. It’s me,” he mumbles in her ear, muffled by how he buries his nose in her hair to breathe deeply between sentences. “I missed you so much, Babe. I love you. I love you.”

“How?” It pains her to ask the question, as if voicing it aloud would ruin the moment and he would disappear. “How are you here?”

He pulls away, hands moving to cup her cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears dampening her cheeks. “My dad...he brought me back. About a month after the Undertaking. I went a little crazy for a while.” He glances away from her to his father and Laurel follows his gaze. “Malcolm...” Tommy takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “He trained me.”

Her eyes dart back to Malcolm. “What does that mean?”

“Hey.” He gently draws her eyes back to his, thumb still drawing soothing circles into her skin. “I’m still me. I wasn’t for a while. I was messed up, but I’m better now.”

“Are you sure?” She can’t help but remember that Thea was brainwashed into killing her sister. She wants to trust Tommy, to find herself safe in his arms again, but the more she thinks about it, the more doubts she has.

“Yes.” Conviction bleeds into his features. “I got away from him a year ago...when he returned to Starling.”

A frown flits across her face. “How did you...?”

He crouches down slightly to look her directly in the eye. “I want to tell you, but what’s going on now is more important.” His eyes drink her in. “I went back to Starling, you know. I saw you there. I know how bad it got. I wanted to stay. I wanted to go to you, but you were moving on. You had your sister back. You were living your life again. And I didn’t want to ruin that.”

Tommy reaches up and pulls back the collar of his shirt, revealing a slash of a scar across his collarbone. “I was there with Slade’s men, but I wasn’t fast enough.”

Her hand drops to the scar, running along the contusion as a sob wells in her throat. This is too much. It’s an emotional overload. She doesn’t want to trust Malcolm, but if Tommy’s alive...what does that mean?

...

Felicity and Diggle watch from across the clearing as Laurel and the man whisper together. They both recognize him, both know how Malcolm must have brought him back, but they’re not about to interrupt this moment.

“Who is that?” Damien leans closer to his daughter, eyes still fixed on the newcomer.

“Tommy Merlyn. Malcolm’s son,” Digg supplies when Felicity doesn’t speak up. “He died in the Undertaking.”

“But he’s not dead.”

“Anymore,” Digg agrees.

Felicity watches her father’s face as he frowns, wondering what that’s about.

“Malcolm has access to a Lazarus Pit?”

Felicity stills with that fact stated for her in plain English. Malcolm. Has. Access. To. A. Lazarus Pit.

“He didn’t need Oliver to make that deal,” she mutters, turning to face Diggle as the realization sinks in. Diggle seems have arrived at the same conclusion, his hands curling into fists as he starts toward Malcolm.

She doesn’t bother to step in as Diggle winds up and slugs Malcolm. “You SONOFABITCH!!! You had Oliver turn himself into Ra’s when you could have saved Thea all along!”

Malcolm crumples to the ground, wiping blood from a cut on his lip.

“You sold Oliver out! And for what? What is your master plan? How does this fit into your grand scheme? Or have we messed that up for you now? Huh?” A couple kicks later, Digg falls back as Felicity drops her hand on his arm.

“No! It wasn’t my plan. It’s Oliver’s. He couldn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to give everything away. I told you! I explained everything before.” He gets to his feet, waving off Tommy as he and Laurel rejoin the group.

“Oliver wouldn’t put Thea’s life in jeopardy intentionally.” Felicity knows that with unquestionable certainty. He would do anything for his sister, but if there was another way to save her, he wouldn’t have engaged Ra’s.

“He didn’t have a choice. Ra’s didn’t give him one. Ra’s wants him, so he was going to stop it nothing to get him. Oliver made a choice. He chose to take out Ra’s.” Malcolm spits blood onto the ground. “And now he needs your help and you’re dawdling here.”

“Because we don’t believe you.” Felicity smiles coolly.

“Does it matter?” Tommy asks, frowning at her. “Oliver needs your help. You’re his team, right? This is what you do.”

She turns her glare on Tommy. “Your _father_ has manipulated and strong-armed us into this situation. If you think we’re trusting him now, you’re delusional.”

“Felicity, right?” Tommy asks.

She nods.

“Your city is in danger, your friend is being brainwashed, and you’re just going to ignore his intel?” He sneers.

“In case you didn’t notice, we’re already planning to bust him out. All this means is that we have to stop the virus, too.”

“Do you think those men inside care about the virus? Do you think your _father_ cares about the virus?” Malcolm asks, gesturing to Damien watching calmly. “All they would do is take the virus for themselves.”

“And you wouldn’t?” Digg demands.

Malcolm grits his teeth. “Starling is my home, too.”

“Now why wouldn’t we believe you?” Digg asks sarcastically.

Tatsu steps forward. “Then trust me.”

Felicity throws her hands up in the air. “Why are we even arguing? We’ll go through with the same plan, just move the time table up. Everything’s set up, right? There shouldn’t be a problem.”

Damien nods. “We strike tomorrow.”


	10. Part X

**Part X**

“For some reason, I pictured this differently,” Felicity mutters under her breath, picking her way through the dark, cobweb-infested tunnel. “Which is crazy because it’s an abandoned tunnel. Obviously it was going to be decrepit, so I don’t know why I had a completely unrelated picture in my mind, starting with a whole lot more light.”

Walking by torch isn’t easy, it turns out. She was overruled in the flashlight department by literally everyone. Apparently, it’s better for the dilapidated walls and will make it easier to adjust to the light once they get into Nanda Parbat proper.

In front of her, Tommy glances back with a raised eyebrow, obviously having heard her little ramble. She hadn’t thought it was that loud, but...She turns around to glance at Digg. The smile tugging at the corner of his mouth through the worry in his eyes, gives her enough of an answer: Yup. She was talking out loud.

How long will it take her to kick that habit?

“I hope you never change, Gadget.” 

Shooting her father a playful glare, Felicity returns her attention to walking carefully down the debris-riddled tunnel. It could be so much worse though: at least she’s not wearing heels. And normally this wouldn’t matter, but there can’t be any mistakes this time, not when it comes to getting Oliver back.

“Are you sure this is a good plan?” Felicity asks yet again. She doesn’t feel good knowing that Laurel is out there with Malcolm and a handful of her father’s men, but she volunteered for that position. Tatsu was there too, but Oliver’s been making questionable choices lately. She’s not quite so willing to put her complete trust in someone who claims to know him.

“Your plan, Gadget,” Her father calls from the front of the line and Tommy raises an eyebrow at her.

She shrugs. “Well, I didn’t realize there were going to be so many cobwebs.” She viciously swats the sticky net in front of her.

Diggle chuckles behind her. “At least it’s not the sewer.”

Felicity pauses for a second in thought, scrunching her nose at the image conjured in her mind before nodding in agreement. “True.”

“Okay. We’re here,” Damien announces softly and the joking answer disappears in a moment.

It’s time.

...

Laurel doesn’t like this plan. She distinctly doesn’t like any plan that involves her working in close conjunction with Malcolm. She’s certain Tommy’s already warned him to look out for her, but she still doesn’t like that she’s out here without back up.

But one of them has to be here and there was no talking John Diggle out of acting as Felicity’s personal bodyguard.

So she’s standing here with the man who murdered the love of her life and her little sister, a Japanese woman wielding a nasty-looking sword and a handful of Damien Darhk’s men about to take on the League of freaking assassins. She’s so not prepared for this it’s almost funny.

Laurel adjusts her grip on her baton. They’re walking into a trap, willingly putting themselves in a compromised position so everyone else can sneak into Nanda Parbat. As far as harebrained schemes, this might be one of the worst she’d even been involved in.

Nyssa would have hit her upside the head for this.

She’s stupidly risking her life to save an ex-boyfriend who’s completely lost his mind. Actually, Nyssa would probably give her a speech on the stupidity of men.

“There’s the plane,” Malcolm whispers next to her, making her skin crawl. “We move now.”

And suddenly the time for thoughts is over.

She moves like Nyssa taught her over the past month. Every moment has a purpose. It’s not quite Nyssa’s innate grace, but it’s fluid.

Assassins emerge from the dunes surrounding them, almost like they rose from the sand. Laurel does her best, blocking and swinging without a break as Nyssa’s drilled her to. She doesn’t stop, she swings and dodges, moving to a nonexistent beat.

Pain slices through her shoulder from a passing arrow, but she keeps moving, gritting her teeth against the very real agony that’s making it difficult to move her shoulder as much as she wants to.

Elation and adrenaline speed the fight along until she turns, finding their men standing in an open field. And for a brief moment, she thinks they may have won. They never really talked about that in the planning stages and she has no idea what to do now.

She blinks and even more bow-wielding assassins appear out of nowhere. Now they’re surrounded.

She sighs. This makes more sense. This is what they predicted.

Laurel follows the example of the other men, raising her arms over her head in surrender. Pain sears her shoulder at the moment.

They’d better get Oliver back or this is definitely not worth it.

...


	11. Part XI

**Part XI**

“Now,” Damien orders his man, and everyone turns away from the wall as it blows sideways into one of Nanda Parbat’s passages.

Tommy coughs, not bothering to wave the dust away as he aims an arrow at the new hole. Beside him, Felicity swats at the air futilely and Diggle aims a gun in the same direction. Tommy nods approvingly at the bodyguard.

He wasn’t sure what to make of the duo when he finally saw them in action. They were partners, part of a well-oiled machine that hadn’t been present – or at least not fully-formed – when he was alive and in Starling. He had known Diggle as Oliver’s bodyguard, but he had never really witnessed him, or Oliver’s team, in action.

Now, he can tell how it works. Diggle is the strong and steady hand, capable of pulling them out of dangerous situations; Oliver, the hotheaded warrior at their head; and Felicity is their mind and heart. He can only imagine how well they work up close, but it’s amazing enough to see just Diggle and Felicity communicating without words.

He’s not blind. He knows how Oliver fits into this picture. It’s pretty clear from the bubbly blonde who everyone keeps treating like his widow. Blonde’s weren’t usually Oliver’s type, but he can see she loves him and – from the looks of things – Oliver felt the same way.

“Follow me,” Darhk instructs, taking point as they move silently through the hole.

He falls in with the rest of the men, sensing Felicity behind him. The trained soldiers move silently down the halls, unfettered by assassins. If Darhk’s plan worked, they should mostly be outside, stopping the invasion. And if Laurel wasn’t safe, his father was going to find another arrow in his heart, one that wouldn’t come out.

The thud of his arrow echoes as it fells the first assassin to round the corner over the heads of Darhk’s men. He has another nocked and ready to fire before the body hits the ground.

He’s not taking any chances tonight.                   

...

Felicity wraps her hand around the gun Digg handed her as her father’s men drag the body from the hall, checking around the corner for any more assassins lying in wait. But this is supposed to be a stealth mission. There should be no reason for her to use the gun: she’s surrounded by trained soldiers, but she knows after three years working with the Arrow that it’s always better to be prepared for all outcomes.

“Come on. We need to move,” Tommy gestures them down a hallway with his head as he keeps his bow trained ahead for possible assassins. He obviously doesn’t hesitate to kill, leaving Felicity to wonder what changed between now and when Oliver told him he was the Hood.

A second later she wants to smack herself upside the head. She knows what changed: he died.

“No. We’re supposed to stay with the group.” Felicity turns to go after her father, but Digg and Tommy push her back down the hallway.

“Our job is to find Oliver. That’s what we’re doing,” Tommy answers brusquely. He spins, leading the way down the hallway.

Felicity shoots Diggle a look but follows in the man’s wake. This Tommy isn’t the one Oliver recalls fondly. This man has changed, gone through his own crucible and come out harder, but there’s still something about him that she trusts. Like with Oliver, she sees a good man under the gruffness, and it isn’t buried nearly as deep as it was with Oliver.

So she trusts him as he leads them through confusing twists and turns until they come to a set of halls she acutely recognizes. She knows where they’re headed, and suddenly, it’s a little harder to breathe.

This is it.

...

The men, Malcolm, Tatsu...Laurel...

Something’s not right. Malcolm was supposed to get his whole team to come. And Laurel wouldn’t be here without Digg and Felicity, but they’re not here. And they didn’t fall on the battlefield. Oliver checked three times over for the blonde head he was most worried about.

“Your quest is foolish, Al Sa-Her. All you did was destroy a decoy, and now you leave yourself at my mercy.”

Oliver’s eyes rove over the men held at arrow point. Their guns lie at their feet, hands in the air, but this isn’t right. The men gave in too easily. They could have easily fought their way out. None of them look defeated.

They’re missing something.

He waits for it, for the second wave, the surprise attack that has to be coming.

But it never does.

Instead, the prisoners are locked in the dungeon to await judgement and Ra’s sends Oliver to prepare for his wedding in celebration.

He’s so preoccupied with his thoughts; he doesn’t notice a presence in the room until he hears the soft feminine voice that plays so often in his head, a voice that he almost dismisses as a figment of his imagination until he turns to face the figure standing by the balcony where he last remembers watching the night sky with her. She smiles sadly.

“Hello, Oliver.”


	12. Part XII

**Part XII**  

No. She can’t be here; logic dictates that she should be as far from this place as humanly possible, but his eyes tell him a different story as he drinks her in. She’s covered in dust and cobwebs that cling to her dark clothes. Her hair is pulled messily back and she’s staring back at him with all more love than he ever thought was possible, especially after what he did in Starling.

She’s never looked more beautiful than she does in this moment.

“Oliver.” His name is a plea on her lips as she steps forward, a hand already reaching out to touch him.

“Felicity.” She draws the word from his lips as her hand brushes his. He closes his eyes against the emotions surging in him as he pulls her to him, holding her in his arms as he’s wanted to since she left.

He gives himself a moment to just breathe in the smell of her shampoo before he lets reality sink back in. “What are you doing here?” His voice doesn’t rise above a whisper for fear of eavesdroppers.

“We’re here to rescue you.” She pulls back, blue eyes boring into his, ground him. “We have to go now.”

“We can’t.” He steps back, giving himself space. “Ra’s has everyone else and he still has the virus. He’s still going to wipe out Starling City.”

“No. He’s not. Oliver, trust me. We’ve got a plan, and we need to leave _now_.” She grabs his hand, intent on leading him from the room when he spots a shadow.

Weeks of being drilled in similar situations has him moving before his mind completely processes. Instinctually, he pushes Felicity behind him so she stands between him and the wall, shielding her with his body. There’s already a knife in his hand.

“Calm down, Oliver.” Diggle approaches slowly, hands up to show he means no harm, but Oliver’s eyes are still in the shadows of the room where he swears he sees something. “It’s just us.”

He frowns. “Us?”

...

 Oliver looks different and yet completely the same. It’s not just the League garb, either. The man in front of him is the man he knows: both the Arrow and Oliver Queen. For a man who’s playing an assassin again, Felicity certainly humanizes him. He practically melted as soon as she touched him.

“There’s someone else here,” Oliver says and Tommy smirks to himself.

Two years and he can blend into the shadows as well as the next assassin. His father is a good teacher, at least that much can be said for him, but not much more. Idly, he wonders how long it would have taken Oliver to notice him if Felicity hadn’t been in the room.

“Come out,” he calls.

Diggle and Felicity shift nervously and Tommy lowers his bow in resignation. He knew it was a risk, being part of this group. Who knows how Oliver is going to take this? But they also need to move as soon as possible.

Oliver pales as he steps into the light, and Tommy smirks. “Long time, no see, Ollie. You look terrible.”

Aware of what Oliver can do, Tommy keeps his stance relaxed so he can react to anything. His friend is having trouble processing this revelation, but Tommy’s already three steps ahead, ready to get Laurel out of the dungeon. He doesn’t have time to wait for Oliver to catch up.

He moves forward, clapping Oliver on the back. “Let’s get going, buddy.”

“Tommy?”

The whisper contains so much disbelief and hope that it brings him to a stop before he reaches the door. He’s blinking back his own tears as he turns back to Oliver. He can’t summon his typical joking attitude so instead he offers a sad smile. “Yeah, it’s really me.”

“How?”

“Lazarus Pit. My dad...” He trails off with a sigh. He can’t give his whole sad account of the last couple years. He’s sure Oliver’s been through just as bad, if not worse, and he needs to get to Laurel. She shouldn’t be in a room with his father for any longer than necessary. “It’s a long story. It’ll have to wait. Then we can talk about how we share a sister,” he adds with a lighter laugh.

Oliver pulls him into a hug, but not fast enough that Tommy misses the tears. He pats his friend on the back, making eye contact with Felicity as she smiles at them, her own eyes tearing up at the reunion.

She mouths ‘thank you’ and Tommy nods, pulling away from the little-too-long-to-just-be-manly hug.

Tommy coughs to dispel the tense, emotion air. “Well, let’s go.”

...

Oliver turns back to Felicity, reaching out to grab her hand. Purposefully ignoring the rushed manner of Tommy’s – Tommy was alive! – departure, he pulls her into him, lifting his other hand to cup her face.

“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers, resting his forehead against hers. “You do know I had it under control, right?”

She snorts, frowning at him. “Yes, you kidnapping Lyla and threatening her screamed control. I don’t know if Digg’s ever going to forgive you for that.”

The smile slips from his face. “It had to be done.”

“I don’t think that’s going to fix anything, Oliver.”

“I know,” he sighs.

“There’s time for that later, love birds. The rest of this can’t wait,” Tommy calls back through the door.

Oliver grimaces at the interruption, but pulls back after pressing a kiss to Felicity’s forehead. His eyes lock with hers as his face settles into Arrow-mode.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

...


	13. Part XIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to apologize now for any mistakes or confusion. All mistakes are mine.

**Part XIII**

The League of Assassins has a _dungeon_.

That’s not the optimal thing to focus on as she sits sandwiched between beefy henchmen, but Laurel would rather focus on the archaic landscape of Nanda Parbat than the fact that she’s chained and secured with a horde of strangers and a man she abhors.

She shifts, suppressing a wince as the movement agitates a cut to her upper arm.

“You okay?”

Laurel glances at the guy to her left in surprise as he points to her arm, cuffs clanking as he moves.

“I can take a look.”

He’s got a kind face for a mercenary, the corners of his lips curling up in a small smile and his eyes crinkling at the edges. “You were great out there, by the way.”

She purses her lips. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t have to act tough. I’m happy to help.”

The mercenary on her other side snorts, turning his head away and Kind Face frowns at him for a millisecond before turning back to Laurel. He nods at her arm and she sighs, nodding her consent.

She doesn’t care about the injury. All she wants is to get out of here, which will only happen once Tommy, Digg, and Felicity get Oliver. She knows the plan. Any minute now, they’re going to appear and unlock the door.

Then she can get back to her life.

Or rather, then she and Tommy can finally sit down and talk about what they’re going to do. He’s alive and it’s more than she could ever hope for. He’s back in her life and she wants him to be a part of it, or at least figure out if they can make it work. Tommy Merlyn was the best thing that ever happened to her.

She knows he’s changed, but so has she. If he wants to try, she’s willing to see if they could make it work.

But first, she needs to get out of here.

...

“This way,” Oliver takes the lead as they head through the tunnels to where Ra’s is holding the prisoners.

Tommy falls back to the rear of their group, covering their backs. The trio in front of him is a well-oiled machine. He doesn’t have to do anything more than watch for intruders on their party.

He does notice that the halls are suspiciously empty.

“Where is everyone?” He asks, voice low.

“Getting ready,” Oliver answers evasively, moving a little faster.

“Ready for what?” Felicity frowns, joining the conversation as she shoots Diggle a questioning gaze. They know Oliver’s hiding something too.

Oliver takes a deep breath, turning to glance back at the group. He grimaces like the next words are as painful as pulling his own teeth. “For my wedding.”

“Wedding?” Felicity repeats.

Oliver doesn’t wait for a response, already continuing to their goal.

“And who’s getting married, Oliver?”

Tommy smirks and catches Diggle’s eye. The man looks exasperated, but at least they’re still moving neither Tommy nor Diggle want to spend a minute more than necessary in Nanda Parbat.

“Oliver?”

“We’re here.” Oliver throws open the door, tossing the keys to the closest guard.

“Oliver,” Felicity repeats, but Tommy’s already moving past them, into the cell.

His eyes search the bodies for the only one he truly cares about. As soon as his eyes land on Laurel, he makes his way to her, nudging the man checking out her arm out of the way so he can pick the locks on her cuffs.

“How are you?” He asks softly, pulling the cuffs carefully from her hands so as not to hurt her.

“I’m fine,” she says, grabbing his hand and squeezing it.

She smiles that beautiful grin that can brighten his day, leaning forward to rest her forehead against his for a beat. Taking a deep breath, she pulls back. “We should go.”

Tommy nods, turning to follow her as he leaves. He spares a glance for an irritated mercenary whose eyes linger a little too long on Laurel and the man on her other side who appears to be chuckling at his neighbor’s expense.

He tosses the chuckling man his lock picks. The man nods in thanks.

Motion draws his eye from the back of the cell. Malcolm lifts his hands in supplication and Tommy immediately turns away. He’s done with that man. He’s got Laurel and Oliver. As far as he’s concerned, they can leave now.

...

“ _You and Nyssa_??” Felicity feels like she just got bashed over the head with a frying pan. “But Nyssa likes girls.”

Oliver snorts. “I don’t think Ra’s is that concerned with his daughter’s preferences.” 

“Then she should come with us. We need to go get her.” She concludes. If they’re here, they might as well free the one assassin she actually likes.

Diggle steps in her way. “That’s not the plan. It’s time to get out of here, Felicity.”

“But Nys-“

_CLANG_

Metal on metal sends the men into battle mode and Felicity finds herself pushed between Oliver and the wall of the tunnel. The sounds of fighting continue echoing down the tunnel.

“We’re leaving, NOW!” Tommy declares, moving to the front of the mass and pulling a sword from the scabbard in his back. “Follow my lead.”

And they all plunge into the abyss.

...

Everything fades into a blur of action and sound as Oliver fights through the mass of assassins. All he knows is that Felicity is safe behind him and his friends are at his side.

They’re making progress, pushing the assassins back.

He has no idea how his team got a battalion of mercenaries to assist when all he sent them was Malcolm and Tatsu, but...

She wasn’t in the cell...

Oliver stops short, allowing solider to surge past him and Felicity. He turns to her. “Tatsu wasn’t in the cell. They took her somewhere else.”

“I’ll get her,” Malcolm offers, joining them. “It’s the least I can do.”

Oliver watching Malcolm run off before turning back to the oncoming assassins now being pushed back by a wall of mercenaries.

And then it’s back to the fighting.

Anything to keep moving forward.

Until they finally see sunlight.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be one or two more chapters to wrap everything up. 
> 
> And feel free to follow me on Tumblr: username - writewithurheart. Blog - War Against Reality


	14. Part XIV

**Part XIV**  

Oliver waits until the group stops at the safe house before he sweeps Felicity into a kiss, cupping her cheek with one hand as the other wraps around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He doesn’t care who might be watching. He just needs to confirm that she’s here in person.

She throws her arms around his neck, sinking into the kiss, opening under his lips. It takes all his control to pull away instead of continuing on in private. Still, he can’t stand to pull away, so he rests his forehead against hers, breathing her in with his eyes shut tight.

He doesn’t want to look down at the League of Assassins garb. He doesn’t want to remember what brought them to this point. He just wants to drink in her presence.

Felicity’s fingers scratch through the short hair at the back of his neck and send shivers down his spine, fueling a thousand different fantasies he can’t wait to play out now that they’re together.

“Ahem.” Diggle coughs and Oliver forces his eyes back open.

 “The plane’s here,” Diggle announces with a smirk.

Felicity runs her hands down his arms, not moving from his hold. Looking around, she frowns. “Where’s my dad?”

Oliver’s eyebrows draw together in confusion. _Dad_ he mouths to Digg, who just nods.

“All I got was that we need to get on this plane.”

Felicity scowls, pulling away from Oliver. “I’m going to talk to Gomez. I’ll be right back.”

Oliver steps closer to Digg. “Dad?” He asks aloud.

Digg glances around at the mercenaries. “That’s who arranged all this. He’s some sort of dark overlord – her words, not mine.”

“Felicity’s _dad_?” He feels like he’s missing something. Her mother was the sweetest person he ever met. It doesn’t seem like her father could be some sort of evil man.

“He’s sweet on her, but I got the sense he’s also a little...morally ambiguous.”

He doesn’t like the idea that Felicity brought someone like that in to rescue him. “Why would he agree to take on the League of Assassins?”

“He said-“

“He had his own vendetta against Ra’s al Ghul,” Malcolm cuts in, crossing his arms over his chest, scowling.

Oliver watches the other man carefully, uneasy with the anger in his eyes. “His own vendetta?”

“After almost a month with Ra’s, perhaps you’ve heard the name Damien Darhk?”

Oliver freezes, a chill seeping into his veins that has as much to do with Malcolm’s tone as with the story Ra’s told him about the man. “Damien Darhk is Felicity’s father? Where is he?”

“While you were freeing us, he took the compound. Our deal is void.”

Oliver frowns. He hadn’t liked making a deal with the bastard in the first place and now this. Malcolm already has his sword bared, face a mask of anger which surprises Oliver. Normally Malcolm can mask his emotions. The fact that he’s not hiding his emotions is terrifying.

Oliver reaches for his own weapon, but before he can grab it, he spots a blade behind Malcolm.

“No-“

His shout is too late and the blade falls, slicing through Malcolm’s neck in a swift, steady blow, severing his head from his body. His head falls sickeningly to the ground a second before his body.

“Tommy,” Oliver says weakly, staring at his best friend as he calmly wipes the blood from his sword. “Your father...”

He shrugs, staring impassively at the body. “He can’t come back now and the world is better without him.” Tommy turns, sliding the sword back into its scabbard. “Now come on, our plane is leaving.”

Digg and Oliver stare after him before exchanging a look. Digg glances down and then steps over the body, following Tommy as he meets up with Laurel and Felicity boarding the small private jet waiting to take off.

“Wait! Digg, aren’t you worried about this?” He doesn’t specify what exactly: Tommy killing Malcolm or Damien Darhk taking over the League. He knows he doesn’t need to.

Diggle turns back and sighs. “I say good riddance. It’s over.”

...

Tommy can feel Oliver’s uneasy eyes on him as he boards the plane, but he ignores him to sit beside Laurel. She frowns, glancing back.

“Where’s Malcolm?” Laurel asks, turning to look out the window.

Tommy keeps his gaze straight ahead. “He’s not coming.”

“What do you mean?” She asks slowly.

Internally he winces, wondering what she’ll think of the hard man he’s become, the man who could murder his father without a hint of regret. On the outside he remains stoic as he says. “He’s dead. I cut his head off.”

Her eyes shoot to him in surprise. It vanishes in a second and she faces forward. “Good.”

He blinks at her matter of fact response, but relaxes again as her hand slips into his and her head falls onto his shoulder.

Finally, he’s home.

...

Felicity watches Tommy and Laurel cuddle as the plane takes off, waiting until they reach cruising altitude before joining Digg and Oliver closer to the front. She lets Oliver pull her onto his lap and she settles in, a hand playing with the ties on his robe.

“My dad stayed behind,” she tells them. “If he survives, he’ll contact me.”

She sighs as he runs a hand through her hair.

“So your dad is Damien Darhk,” Oliver whispers.

Felicity glances back up at him. He already knows who her father is and based on his voice, he knows what her father does for a living. “Is that a problem?”

“No.” He says, but she can still sense the tension in his shoulders.

“If anything happens with the League, we’ll deal with it.” She tells him.

“Even if it’s your father?” He asks.

She sighs, pausing in her ministrations. “I won’t like it, but yes.”

Oliver’s arms wrap more securely around her and he presses a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Felicity Smoak.”

She hums contentedly and burrows into him, eyes fluttering closed. “I love you too, Oliver Queen.”

She doesn’t hear Diggle leave as she drifts off to sleep in the arms of the man she loves.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the end my friends! 
> 
> And feel free to follow me on tumblr:   
>  username: writewithurheart   
>  blog: War Against Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it. Inspiration hit me like an eighteen-wheeler and this is the result.


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